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a Pen a Book and a Web

There was a man
In his hand a pen
On his lap a notebook
As the pages grew
Stained-crumpled w/ age
A man noticed something peculiar
Everything he wrote
Came to be
Or so he thought

So to test his theory
He authored experiments
A man was right about his hunch
Indeed
Also he learned something new
More PWRful than his pen & book
Was the web of conscious surrounding them

The kids on the corner
The elders of the streets
Even some random at Church’s Chicken
He noticed, could see him
As he saw them when
Biographing their moments

A man was so stunned
By all that he knew
In order to stay sane
He refused to believe it true
A man tried to retreat
Back to what he was before
the book, the pen and the web
But he could not repress this door
This door was made of a heavy
Unlike any other before
This door remained open
Albeit not wide just ajar
Enough for a man to manage